


It's Not Staring (If They Can't See You)

by fortheloveoffaberry



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: ALL the alternate universes!, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Angst and Feels, F/F, Light Angst, look i joined the parentheses title bandwagon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:44:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveoffaberry/pseuds/fortheloveoffaberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt - "Ghost/Living AU"</p><p>or</p><p>Lexa can see ghosts, and Clarke just might be one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Staring (If They Can't See You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vulpixgrrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixgrrrl/gifts).



> I haven't edited this yet, so my apologizes. I did this as fast as I could, lol. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Thanks for reading!

The first time she recalled being able to use her gift she was seven years old. Unlike all of the myths and modern legends she had heard, she hadn’t been close to death or been in a car accident. It just happened, unexpectedly; simply.

A little boy had pushed her off the steps of the playground, sending her tumbling to the mulch below. She heard his quiet laugh, and when she turned, she saw his muddy clothes and chipped teeth. 

“Why’d you do that?” Her small voice hurt and angry, ignoring the questioning shouts from her older sister, Anya, asking if she was okay.

The boys eyes had widened and he had stepped back, “You... you can see me?”

“What do you mean I can see you? Duh, I can see you!” She said, her voice rising slightly.

“Lexa, who are you talking to?” 

The small girl turned to look up at her sister, “I was talking to the boy that pushed me!”

“Lexa, there’s no one else here,” Anya said as she crouched down to Lexa’s level. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she took in Anya’s words.

She shook her head, “Yes-huh, he was right-” and turned around quickly only to be met with the metal bars of the playground. “Here...” she finished softly as she looked around for the boy that was no where to be seen.

Her sister grabbed her hand and nodded, “Well, maybe he will be here again tomorrow, and we can ask him to apologize for pushing you, okay?”

The smaller girl had just nodded and held onto Anya’s hand tightly. 

Since then Lexa had grown to know who everyone could see and who was only visible to her. It had taken her time, but she finally had noticed the subtle differences. Whether it be out of date hairstyles, or how their fingertips or the tips of their ears always seemed to be more translucent, she was now keen on how to pick each out from the other. 

Some are more difficult to pick from others, which has made her look like a weirdo that holds full on conversations with herself on the subway on more than one occasion.

(Now all she holds is a mask to her face.)

At first she tried help move the spirits to the afterlife. Day after day she searched for spirits and talked with them - helped them move on. Day after day more people came to her asking for help.

(Eventually she was only skin and bone. Her spirit was too wrapped up in others to realize her own needed help.)

When she took a break from her “calling” (she hated that idea), they haunted her house and her family.

(She let them break her.)

They eventually stopped trying, and she stopped seeking them out. There’s a lot more to just that part of the story, but what matters is how she started talking to spirits again.

(One spirit, really).

Two weeks ago, on Monday, on the 11 AM subway to get to her first class of the day, she accidentally didn’t realize that she was talking to a spirit on the subway again.

Later she would blame it on the girl’s blonde hair covering her ears, and her nails were painted, and her clothes looked new.

(In reality, she was too enthralled looking into the girl’s surprisingly expressive blue eyes.)

It was her fault really, she was the first one who said hello. She should have known by the surprise in the blonde’s blue eyes that she was a spirit, but Lexa was much too surprised with herself with actually saying something.

“What are you drawing?”

Lexa looked down at the old sketchbook in the girls lap. The blonde had been staring, drawing and erasing in that thing since Lexa had sat down next to her.

The girl just looked up surprised, and Lexa just blushed, mentally kicking herself for starting off with such a personal, intrusive question. The blonde probably would think she was crazy now.

(Thankfully Lexa didn’t notice the other stares around her.)

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have busted in like that,” Lexa shook her head and rubbed her hands on her jeans nervously, “I’ll go back to sitting quietly now.”

“No!” The girl said a little too eagerly (This should have been Lexa’s first clue) before clearing her throat and adding more evenly, “I mean, no, it’s okay. I was just doodling.”

“May I see?” Lexa asked, curious as to what the girl could have been drawing non-stop.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the blonde smiled nervously before handing her the book, “I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“Clarke,” Lexa smiled, letting the name fall of her tongue slowly. “Clarke, what a lovely name.” She held out her hand and shook the other girls firmly. Lexa briefly noted that Clarke’s hand was cold.

(Second clue).

(But it was winter).

“I’m Lexa.”

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke returned with a nervous smile.

Why was Clarke nervous? Lexa was supposed to be the nervous one. She chocked it up to Clarke being nervous for her to be seeing her drawings.

(Really it was clue number three).

Her eyes scanned the page and she was surprised to find beautifully drawn portraits. Portrait after portrait covered the page. Some covering others, as if Clarke was trying to fill every blank space she possibly could, as if one day she was going to run out of paper.

(One day she would.)

Lexa looked up at the people surrounding her and a smirk etched its way onto her face, “You drew the guy sitting over there? Are these all people you’ve seen on the subway?”

Clarke had the decency to blush, “Well... on the subway people can’t usually tell you’re looking at them.”

(Little did Lexa realize it was because they couldn’t look at Clarke).

Lexa smirked, “isn’t that a little bit invasive?”

Clarke huffed and pried her sketchbook away from Lexa’s fingers, “I think it’s beautiful. Catching people in their most natural state. How they look when they’re thinking or reading.”

"Or drawing.” Lexa’s eyes widened just the slightest bit before clearing her throat and calming her features. 

(She totally didn’t just say that.)

(Oh my god she totally did just say that.)

Clarke bit her lip to hide her smile and looked down at her sketchpad, “Were you just flirting with me?”

Lexa swallowed and shrugged nonchalantly, “Just merely stating the facts, Clarke.”

Clarke hummed, a small smile playing on her lips, as the train started rolling to a stop.

“Will you be taking this train tomorrow?” She asked when she saw Lexa begin gathering her things.

"Yes, I ride this train Monday through Wednesday, and the two o’clock one on Thursday and Friday.”

“What a coincidence,” Clarke smiled, “So do I.”

“So, I’ll see you again?” Lexa asked, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.

“Yes, we’ll meet again,” Clarke said as she waved and Lexa made her exit.

It was then that she was walking through the station that she saw a group of people gathered around a memorial in the middle. Being connected to the dead makes you curious, despite not wanting to get involved anymore.

She walked up and her eyes widened at the picture.

_“Clarke Griffin. December 5, 1996- January 28, 2015. Tragically killed from accidentally being pushed in front of the A line subway train. May the sky be your kingdom.”_

When she caught Clarke drawing her profile the next day, she decided that maybe her gift wasn’t such a bad thing.

That maybe she could help others move on to the next world.

(If she could stop herself falling in love long enough to see them go).

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being much longer than originally planned, so I posted it here too instead of just on tumblr. It was fun to write, but it's really late at night and I didn't edit it at all so I hope it's good anyway lol. Hope you liked it! I'm digging this concept though, so I might sit down and actually plan out a real story someday.
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> Talk to me here if ya like!: http://fortheloveoffaberry.tumblr.com


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